Padfoot's Eyes
by xXxPadfootxXx
Summary: (NOTE: I put Sirius for the second char. just because.) Harry's summer is interrupted by a guest staying with the Dursleys. A 17 year old girl, who shares the same eyes as Harry's dead godfather, Sirius Black.(Ack! Just read...bad summary.)


Padfoot's Eyes  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. -sniffs- If I did, Sirius wouldn't die. -breaks down sobbing- Meep! Sorry, but I did the same thing when I read the fifth book. Padfoot was me fav charrie. But anyways, I DO own Sarah. So back off.-growls-  
  
Chapter One: Familiar Stranger  
  
The night air was still and calm, Harry Potter noticed as he leaned out his bedroom window, the slight breeze ruffling his already untidy black hair. Pushing his glasses his nose, he squinted into the dark, trying to make out any sign of a sleek white owl swooping towards him.  
  
He had sent Hedwig out a day before, to send a letter to Ron, bearing the usual statements of boredom. Nothing had happened, nothing would happen. Number 4 Privet Drive was fine. He was fine. Everything was fine. Oh what a lie. He had tried as hard as possible, and succeeded horribly, to veer from anything that might touch the subject of Sirius Black, his dead godfather.  
  
A lump in his throat formed. Sirius Black. Padfoot. Best friend to his also dead father and member of the Order of the Phoenix. The one person who had given Harry the hope of a life away from those damned Dursleys.  
  
If only Bellatrix Lestrange hadn't been there. Sirius might be alive today, perhaps writing Harry a letter while yelling for the awful house elf, Kreacher, to shut the screaming portrait of Mrs. Black up, laughing and wanting to strangle him when he refused and muttered darkly under his breath about how he was a blood-traitor. If only if only.how many times in his sleep and thoughts had he uttered those words. Sirius was dead, and Harry would never look into the hollow dark eyes again, that filled with laughter as he and Harry discussed anything and everything, just the two of them.He was truly alone.  
  
The wizard boy sighed, and his eyes shifted to his open trunk by his bed. Scattered books and bits of parchment littered its surrounding area. The silvery cloth of his invisibility cloak peeked over the tip of an old photo album filled with pictures of his parents, a gift from his half-giant friend, Hagrid. He smiled softly. Harry wondered if Grawp had torn up any more trees. There probably wouldn't be much of a Forbidden Forest left by the time the break was over.  
  
Straightening, the scrawny 15-almost-16 year old went back to his bed, untidy as his hair. He listened for any noises, perhaps any sign of something magical almost, then drifted into his sleep, having the usual nightmares haunting him: Sirius falling, falling, through the archway, mouth contorted into a surprised look, the dark eyes touching his for the last time, and his own screams of "SIRIUS...!"  
  
+++  
  
The morning came to soon, but with a letter. Hedwig was staring at him placidly with her amber eyes atop her cage, a letter attached hazardously to her leg. Jumping unsteadily out of bed, Harry untied it, and scanned it for anything interesting, reading it more thoroughly once he found no sign of things going on at the Ministry. Ron's untidy scrawl seemed even sloppier then usual.  
  
Dear Harry,  
  
Sounds like your having a 'brilliant' time with the Muggles. I wish you could stay with us. All that's going on here that they're telling us that Fudge is bumbling around so much trying to stop You-Know-Who (I WILL NOT SAY IT!!!) from getting more supporters he's going to be going insane or driving his workers to it. Percy sent me another letter. Blabla, a load of crap. I do hope maybe Fudge will drive him bonkers; maybe he'll lighten up.  
  
Ron  
  
With a sigh, he set it on his bed for later, and threw on some clothes, then slowly and tiredly walked downstairs.  
  
Aunt Petunia was cooking bacon, her lips curled over her horse-like teeth, Dudley drumming his fingers impatiently on the table as he waited for breakfast. Uncle Vernon, he could hear, was on the phone in the next room.  
  
Dudley glanced at him, a flicker of fear in his piggy eyes, thanks to last year's scare with two dementors. Harry rolled his eyes and sat down in a chair. A few minutes later, as the two boys had started eating, Uncle Vernon came clomping into the room, a smile half hidden by his beefy face.  
  
"Excellent news, " he boomed; Harry cringed, "We'll be having a little guest for a bit of the summer. One of my closest friends, Donald Woodsbee is going on vacation to America with his wife, a little business trip. They're daughter will be staying with us. Isn't that nice? A splendid girl, real lady, they tell me, goes to an exclusive school for the gifted. You'll have another female to chat with, eh Petunia?"  
  
His bony wife smiled almost sickeningly, "Oh, lovely. She's about Dudley's age, a little older, isn't she?" He clapped a hand on Dudley's shoulder, and nodded, then continued, "She'll be staying until her term starts. By the time the holiday's come, her parents will be back. Now you, boy, " he snarled, rounding on Harry, who blinked, "I've already fed the story about St. Bruno's, and I'll be wanting you to have as little as possible to do with this girl. Speak to her as little as you can, and try not to even breathe on her. Got it?" He looked at him menacingly.  
  
The wizard boy nodded shortly. Private school. Probably a little twit who acted just like the Dursleys. Practical and shocked at the prospect of something with logic. Rubbing his lightening-shaped scar slightly, the constant prickling away for a few minutes, he dug into his breakfast, the Dursley's yammering away as usual, all about that bloody girl.  
  
+ + +  
  
Dear Ron,  
  
Remember how awful things were here in my last letter? Just got worse I think. The Muggles are having some stupid git of a girl come to stay with them till her 'exclusive school' term starts. I think it's probably just going to be some blonde prat who would scream at the sight of a spider. I dunno though. Maybe she'd only scream if she saw a Blast-Ended Skewart. I know some in Gryffindor did when they saw THOSE things.  
  
Harry  
  
Harry rolled up his letter to Ron, and held out his arm. Hedwig fluttered onto it, hooting softly. He tied it on securely, and stroked her head. She nibbled his ear affectionately.  
  
"Take this to Ron, alright? And hurry back, I need someone to talk too." The owl hooted gently, and took flight out the open window, disappearing in a rush of white feathers on a black background.  
  
+ + +  
  
Harry blinked and shifted slightly, the dry, dead grass prickling his stomach. It was the next day, and he was in last year's hideout, underneath the window box. Last year he had been caught here, but the Dursley's were freaking out over the house, so he was safe. And this time he knew not to bonk his head when he got up. He wanted to be the first to see this mystery girl.  
  
His relatives were inside the house, fussing over the cushions. He snorted. Aunt Petunia would scrub the house top to bottom for the mailman. Resting his chin on his hands, he pursed his lips and waited in silence.  
  
So far, what he knew was this: Her name was Sarah. She was very brilliant, as Uncle Vernon had ranted, and loved all creatures (Aunt Petunia had to force a smile through that; she despised animals) big and small, after all, living right next to one of the largest forests in England with a few horses, dogs, cats, goats, and chickens, and in of the most uninhabited areas.  
  
He wondered if she ever saw any centaurs. Probably thought a wild man was riding one of her horses, Harry thought, smirking. Anyways, Mr. Woodsbee had a construction company, and had his office in London, where he drives several hours every morning. Obvious how he and Uncle Vernon (who made drills) had met up. Also, Sarah was a talented painter, singer, and quite fascinated in the stars, yaddayadda.Aunt Petunia had wondered what a girl her age would want to do in space. Obviously she hadn't even considered Astronomy being the subject, not rockets and discovering new planets.  
  
Privet Drive was silent, mostly, a few cars passing by. Eventually, long after Harry got sick of thinking about perfect girl Sarah, a grand beast of forest green metal halted neatly in front of the house, and he stiffened up, straining for a better view by sticking his head halfway through a clump of magnolias and dead pansies.  
  
Three people were getting out, one of them arguing profusely with what he took to be her parents. A duffel bag was slung over her shoulders, another in one hand, a trunk in the other, the tall, slightly tanned girl seeming about 17. Cascading down her back was thick blonde hair tucked behind her ears. He could not see her face, but heard her voice, that sounded annoyed, and somehow familiar, so familiar, the two adults getting out of the car looking a little frazzled, with their dark hair and fair skin. They were a little short, a little plump, and looking a little pissed at the girl, who wore a white blouse and black skirt that came halfway down her slender legs.  
  
"-don't care, why couldn't I have just stayed with one of my friends, or gone to America with you? Bloody hell, it's not fair that I'll be stuck as far away from my kind as possible!"  
  
Spoiled, he thought bitterly.  
  
"Sarah!" The adult woman snapped, putting a hand on her shoulder, "Calm down, you'll work yourself into a coma. We know this is hard on you, but try not to fret. And we'll write loads.make it up to you somehow."  
  
He heard the girl sigh, and mumbled, "Alright, but I'm going to be miserable." She whistled, "C'mon, now, Merlin, let's go." A sleek black cat shot from out of the car, trotting up to the girl, rubbing between her legs affectionately. She picked him up, and seemed distraught, "Are you SURE Mrs. Ennington knows how to take care of Doylen?" God, he was positive, she seemed so familiar, with her stature and air of.of, he couldn't put his finger on it, was it a smooth respect she demanded, or a coy intelligence?  
  
The man nodded, and mumbled, "Mmmhmmm. Don't worry, darling, we made all the arrangements. And we ARE sorry you couldn't bring him, but.well, I'm not sure Vernon would appreciate having Doylen in his house.Besides, if you brought him, then everyone else would be jealous now, wouldn't they?" He knocked crisply on the door, and Harry jumped.  
  
Stealthily getting to his feet, he hid behind one of the largest bushes, hearing through the prickle of leaves, "Donald! Dana! And Sarah, come in, come in, it's so nice to see you again!" Aunt Petunia's voice crackled out of the house, and the door shut. He waited several minutes before sneaking into the house, spotting the family in the living room before making his way into his own bedroom. He left the door open a crack, listening to the conversation.  
  
Uncle Vernon and that Woodsbee man were chatting heartily, and Aunt Petunia was reassuring both Sarah and Mrs. Woodsbee. Her false laugh sent shivers up Harry's spine. Eventually though, she heard her say, "Dudley, now take Sarah to the guest room. The Woodsbees have a long journey ahead of them." He heard his cousin's thick voice say yes, and then the sound of a light set of footsteps, then Dudley's heavy ones. The girl's voice, now hesitant, mumbled something, and Dudley seemed to answer with a yes. Now he turned on her, asking a question.  
  
"You don't look a bit like your parents."  
  
Her voice was a little edgy and sad, "Umm...yes, I-I know, I'm well, they're not mine, really. I'm adopted. Was 6 when my mum died."  
  
"Oh.sorry, who was she? And your dad?" They started to come down the hall slowly. Harry's heart started hammering in his chest. So familiar. He could see the black of her skirt now, legs pumping easily to match Dudley's long strides, as the pig-like boy brought her to the room across from Harry's. Her cat was trotting beside her, moving like he could walk on air.  
  
"Um, my mum was a young woman named Gwendolyn Tellinus. She died in an...accident, we'll say. Was a teacher at the school I go to now...and she even went there, my dad did as well. She got pregnant by a boyfriend, but....he went to jail later on, and I don't think he would of wanted to marry her. But he didn't commit the crime, even though everyone thinks I'm mad...I know he didn't.said he murdered a bunch of people.and it was said he helped to murder my own godfather, who was his best friend, his wife, and baby boy.the baby survived though." They paused in the hallway.  
  
Oh God, thought Harry. Oh my God.  
  
"What was his name?" Dudley's voice pierced through the haze of Harry's mind.  
  
It was then she turned her head ever so slightly, catching his eyes in her own. They were dark, so dark, with the same shutter-like qualities that closed off the life she knew, the life he knew, the eyes he had passed onto his daughter.  
  
"Sirius Black." 


End file.
